


Monster Brothers

by sammichgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, holiday snippet, knife!play, season 10, wincestmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammichgirl/pseuds/sammichgirl
Summary: Season ten based Christmas snippet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wincestmas 2015 on tumblr as a gift for random-fireworks.

He can’t get it out of his head. The vampire Starr, and her mentality on, “It's all love, pretty boy. All of you will become all of us. We won't waste one bit.” But she didn’t understand how he felt those sentiments entrenched into his bones, marrow deep, how he craved it. No one could.

He waits until Sam is asleep, listens for the deep even puffs of breath, feeling them warm across his cheek as he hovers, sees the candy pink mouth parted slightly and already wants to taste. Sam’s not dreaming yet, there’s no fluttering of his eyelids visible in the ghostly moonlight that seeps from the edges of the tattered motel curtains. 

Dean’s looming over Sam, not quite touching but hovering, all his strength holding him back from just crashing down on him, legs straddling his groin, arms on either side of his head, his fingers lightly stroking the silken locks that fan out on the pillow.

He scents his little brother right under his left ear, nosing softly, taking in the recently washed trace of Sam’s shampoo, fig and vanilla. It’s earthy and fresh, sweet but not cloying. So very much like Sam. He lets his nose trace along a hint of stubbled jawline, lets his tongue sweep tenderly over kissable lips, fighting the urge to nip at them.

With a silent sigh, he pulls back to just lightly spoon against Sam’s side, his right hand over Sam’s heart. He whispers so softly it’s barely a breath, verdant gaze locked on the center of his universe, confession for sins he hasn’t committed unless the thought counts. It probably does at this point. Or it should. 

“It’s not like I never thought about it. Damn Sammy. For you, for your flesh, it’s always all love. I’ve wanted to eat you alive since you found out about monsters.” The thought that he is one himself goes undeclared.

Astonished by actually giving voice to some of his darkest thoughts, he bites his lip, not caring that he’s drawn his own blood. He licks the drops away, and the taste is metallic and warm. He feels like Sam’s would be lusher – and he knows that’s not how it should be. Blood is life. Sam is his life. Sam’s blood is his life – and hasn’t it always been?

“You’re not the only freak in this family, Sammy,” murmured so quietly Dean could hear Sam’s heartbeat through his fingertips above the spoken words. “I want to keep you safe inside of me, carry you with me always.”

And Dean’s sure he’s fallen asleep himself and is lucid dreaming when he feels Sam’s right hand slowly move up between their bodies to reach out and under Dean’s pillow, bringing back down with it the small silver knife always there for safety.

No words are spoken as Sam turns his body on its side, facing Dean. There’s enough moonlight to see his foxlike eyes are blown, Dean’s not sure if in fear or lust. There’s a maniacal smile Dean’s seen a time or two before and always brushed off as the thrill of the hunt on his Sammy’s face. It seems so out of place with his charming dimples.

Sam turns the strong, calloused hand that was resting on his heart palm up, presses the knife into it, curling Dean’s fingers around the hilt. Their eyes search each other soul deep and Dean is stunned to find more than a little madness in the hazel kaleidoscopes he’s always fallen for.

There’s so much wrong between them. This might destroy them beyond repair. Or it could make the shattered pieces fit again. Blood bond, life bound, souls mated. 

He makes a shallow cut across Sam’s shoulder, leaning in to gently lap at the offering as Sam arches forward, exhaling a “yes” as they both close their eyes in bliss. 

Dean was right. Lush.


End file.
